«I am seeking a grave site that’s bright. / Can you help, I am tired and weary? / Open fields get so cold in the night. / Heaps of stones by the sea are so dreary. She’s so used to the peace she knew prior, / And she loves the rays of the sun, / I will build a small hermitage by her, /...»
«The ice has covered up the garden, / It sparkles and it cracks. / The one who left me is disheartened / But there’s no coming back. The sun’s now waning face grows dim – / A window and no more, / I clandestinely know whose twin / Caressed it long ago. All sense of peace is vanqui...»
«Shepherd boy, out on the plain, / This craze will not subdue. / As I recall the cloak and cane / My agonies ensue. / If I rise, I’ll fall anew. / Little horn plays on: loo-loo! As in a dream, we bade farewell, / I spoke: “I’ll wait for you.” / “We will meet again in hell,”...»
«Three times she tortured me like this. / I awoke with an anguished moan / And saw her thin pale hands / And mouth, scathing and black. / “Who were you kissing at dawn, / As you swore that you’d die if it ends, / And hiding your burning bliss, / Sobbed by the gate near the shack? / ...»